Liam Barr

We keep looking for somewhere safe to stand.
A settled routine seems like it.
So does a plan with every gap filled in.
Or one person who always thinks well of us.

Each of them is good ground.
And each of them can shift.

There's one place that holds.
Our own judgement once fear and anger quieten.

A plan falling apart can't reach it.
Neither can someone changing their mind.

It's been under us the whole time.
It holds the moment we choose to stand on it.

Something knocks us off the horse.
A plan falls through or a week goes sideways.

We stay down there working out why.
Going back over what was said and what we missed.
Understanding it first feels like the responsible thing.

But the ground rarely has much to tell us.

Most of the answers arrive once we're moving again.
Somewhere in an ordinary day the rhythm comes back.
And with it we see what slipped.

Staying down feels responsible.
It only keeps the answer further away.

We bring an idea to work.
It's sound. We've checked it twice.
It would save the team an hour a week.

The answer is no.
Or someone else's idea goes ahead instead.
And it stings like they said no to us.

But our idea had to land somewhere.
On a spreadsheet someone colour-coded by hand.
On a process they fought for two years ago.

Their no might not be about our idea at all.
It might be about the work they've already put in.

Some things aren't worth us fighting for.
Someone else already did.